Royce struck a light, catching the oiled cloth on fire, and pushed it under the door. The wood was old and dry, and the flames hungrily took hold. The brisk winter wind did its part, spreading flames to the clapboard sides.
“What are you doing?” asked Saldur’s voice, rising in terror. “Marius, do something. Threaten to cut Modina’s throat if he doesn’t—”
“I did, you idiot! He doesn’t care about the empress. He’s going to kill us all!” Marius shouted.
The flames spread quickly. Royce went back for more oil to lure the fire across the timbers. The exterior of the storehouse blazed, and sheets of flame raced upward. Royce stepped back and watched the building burn. He felt the heat on his face as the flaming building lit up the street.
Shouts came from inside, fighting to be heard over the crackling of the fire. Royce waited, watching the cloverleaf insignia burn away.
It was not long before the first man jumped from a second-story window. He managed to land well enough, but Royce was on him in an instant. Alverstone flickered in the firelight. The man screamed, but Royce was in no hurry and took his time. He cut the tendons of the man’s legs, making it impossible for him to run. Then, sitting on his chest, he severed the man’s fingers. It had been a long time since Royce had used Alverstone to dismember someone. He marveled at how well the white dagger cut through the toughest cartilage and even through bone. Royce left the first man to bleed when he noticed another one jump. This one came from a third-story window. He landed awkwardly, and Royce heard a bone break.
“No!” the man cried, struggling to crawl away as Royce’s dark form flew toward him. The man scraped desperately at the snow. Once more, Royce was slow and methodical. The man howled with each cut. When he stopped moving, Royce removed his heart. He stood up, drenched in blood, his right arm soaked to the elbow, and threw the organ through the window the man had leapt from.
“You’re next, Saldur,” he taunted. “I can’t wait to see if you actually have one or not.”
There was no response.
Out of the corner of his eye, Royce saw a dark figure moving from the back of the building. Merrick was barely noticeable as he slipped through the dancing shadows. Royce guessed he was planning to hide on the lip under the Langdon Bridge, which the Black Diamond used to ambush targets. Royce left Saldur to burn. The fire completely engulfed the second floor. It would be just a matter of time. The only way out was for the regent to jump, and a man his age would fare poorly in a three-story drop to frozen ground.
Royce chased after Merrick, who abandoned stealth to make an open run for it. Royce caught up quickly, and Merrick gave up near the middle of the bridge. He turned, his dagger drawn, his face covered in sweat and soot.
“I didn’t kill her,” he shouted.
Royce did not respond. He rapidly closed the remaining distance and attacked. The white dagger lashed out like a snake. Merrick dodged. He avoided the first swipe but Royce caught him on the return stroke, slicing across his chest.
“Listen to me,” Merrick said, still trying to back away. “Why would I kill her? You know me! Don’t you think I knew she was my protection? Have you ever seen me do anything as stupid as that? Just ask yourself—why would I do such a thing? What would I gain? Think, Royce, think. What reason would I have to kill her?”
“The same reason that I’m going to kill you—revenge.”
Royce lunged. Merrick tried to move, but he was too slow. He would have died instantly if Royce had aimed for his heart or throat. Instead, Alverstone caught Merrick in the right shoulder.
It plunged deep and Merrick dropped his weapon.
“It doesn’t make sense!” Merrick screamed at him. “This has nothing to do with Jade. If I wanted revenge, I could have killed you years ago. I only wanted Saldur and the empress. I was never going to hurt her. We’ve made our peace with each other, Royce. I was serious about that offer to work together again. We are not enemies. Don’t make the same mistake I did. You were set up when Jade died, but I couldn’t see that—I didn’t want to. Now someone is doing the same thing to me. I’ve been set up, don’t you see? Just like you were. Use your brain! If I had a bow, would I have let you burn the warehouse? It wasn’t me. It was someone else!”
Royce made a show of looking around. “Funny, I don’t see anyone else here.”
He pounced again. Merrick retreated and his heel hit the short curb of the bridge.
“You’re running out of room.”
“Damn it, Royce, you have to believe me. I would never kill Gwen. I swear to you—I didn’t do it!”
“I believe you,” Royce said. “I just don’t care.”
With one final thrust, he stabbed Alverstone into Merrick’s chest.
Merrick toppled backward. He reached out for the only thing he could grab, and together he and Royce fell over the edge.
When the gate had burst open, Hadrian did not wait for the others. Instead, he spurred his horse and raced toward the river. Malevolent slipped on the snow and nearly fell as he rounded the corner to Langdon Bridge. On the far side, the warehouse burned like a giant pyre. The streetlamps on that side of the bridge were dark. On his side, the iron swans, dusted with snow, flickered with an eerie orange light. The tall lampposts cast wavering shadows—thin, dark, dancing spears that fluttered and jabbed.
Hadrian saw her lying near the side of the bridge.
“Oh dear Maribor, no!” He ran to Gwen’s side. Flakes of snow gathered on her closed eyes and clung to her dark lashes. He put his head to her chest. There was no heartbeat—she was dead.
“It doesn’t make sense!” Hadrian heard someone cry out. Looking down the bridge, he saw them at the very apex of the span. Royce had Merrick backed up along the edge. Merrick was hurt, unarmed, and screaming. Jumping to his feet, Hadrian sprinted forward, his boots slipping on the slick snow. From only a few strides away, Hadrian saw Royce stab Merrick and watched as both of them tumbled over the side.
He slid, caught himself against the lip, and looked over. His heart pounded in his chest. Far below, the churning water of the Bernum River revealed itself as a dark line broken by moonlit explosions where water crashed against rocks. He saw something dark still falling. A moment later, it hit the surface with a brief flash of white.
Arista flexed her fingers and climbed back on her horse. Breckton remounted as well and rode forward to speak with the shouting gate guards. Hadrian had already disappeared into the twisting streets.
No one mentioned anything about the exploding gate.